In the spirit of Lent, what with me working in a Catholic church environment, I have decided to jump on the bandwagon for the first time in about oh, eighteen years, and give up something for Lent. My vice? Or to narrow that down, my Lenten Vice? Junk food. Woman vs No Junk Food. Do you reckon HBO would take up the gauntlet of that show? Doubtful, so for now, I shall have to bring you this through the medium of the internet. Unpaid I may add. Why that fat bastard gets to parade around the US eating fo - Anyway...
If it were possible, I could happily live on junk food. Crisps, chocolate, jellies, chocolate covered stuff, croissants topped with almonds, savoury snacks whatever you care to list under junk food, I could and most probably have eaten it. A typical day, in fantasy junk food land, would be croissants with butter and blackcurrant jam in the morning, chocolate covered brazil nuts for snack, massive bag of cheese Doritos with dip for lunch, followed by Kinder Bueno (as this is fantasy land, it would be both the Bueno Negro and the Bueno Blanco varieties) with more crisps for afternoon snack and so on and so on, you can see where this is going. Put a big leafy, deliciously dressed salad in front of me, with an order of seabass and yeah, I would look at it and savour the smell and enjoy what I was seeing. Put a bowl of Sweet Chilli and Sour Cream Kettle Chips sans dressing beside my gourmet meal, and I would be flicking stolen glances at the crisps, in the manner of secretly checking out that other guy or girl when you are out and about with your partner. How easy is it to be sitting at your desk with a bag of chocolate nibbles, dipping in every time your left hand leaves the key board? That answer, if you work where I work, is very easy.
Most offices have the sweetie press, bog standard, totally fine. Our office, has a weekly Sainsbury's shop delivered each week, complete with an amazing house keeper who keeps an eye on what we enjoy most and orders them for us by the bag load. I both love her and hate her in equal measures. On top of an upstairs sweetie press, we have the downstairs table in our meeting room, normally laden with chocolates, and nuts, and crisps and more chocolates. Throw in some lovely patrons of the office who like to bring us cakes and M&S biscuits and more boxes of chocolates, and you can imagine what we are dealing with here. What could be not much of an issue for a larger office, whereby the nibbles brought in can stretch to about thirty employees, is actually quite a major issue for us, as there are only seven of us, house keeper included. Enough for thirty, but consumed by seven.
And even though it's only just a week into my forty day and forty night odyssey of going cold junk food turkey, it seems I am being harassed by sweets. The office is abound with all butter Shortbread biscuits, mini chocolate chip cookies (mini things are always so much more delicious) profiteroles with chunks of chocolate sauce drizzled generously over the pastry, Bailey's chocolates, snack sized Kit-Kats, a small cupboard full of crisps, it's wall to wall junk. There seems to be chocolate appearing as if from no where. I go to make my porridge in the morning, opening the cereal press also opens the flood gates to the Narnia of Sweeties, they both cohabit the same building. Opening the fridge to get the milk, there are Ginsters microwaveable slices winking at me and glinting under the light of the fridge. Go to take tea break, turn your back for a moment and when you go to lift the mug to your lips, you will find that a Kit-Kat or a Terry's All Gold chocolate left haphazardly beside you.
It's not even just in the office, but it is where I spend most of my time. Only this evening, standing in the supermarket looking for tea, I found myself in a familiar aisle, that of the one which contains all of my favourite things. To the left, jostling for space on the shelf were the entire family of Haribo, including Uncle Tangfastic, Granny StarMix and that cousin that you secretly fancy, Golden Bears. Gossiping up top were the Terry family, both milk and dark chocolate options looking down their fancy wrapped noses at the own brand chocolate covered raisins and peanuts. The crisps were there too, all onion rings and ridged Kettle Chips and Sensations and multi pack Doritos practically flinging themselves into my basket. Jelly Bean jellies committing Hari Kari to get a place in my shopping, Pringles...well they can stay there, maybe I should have given up Pringles for Lent. Fearing the worst, and knowing my penchant for all things junk, I knew I had to get out of there before I staged a sit in in the sweetie aisle. But to my horror, swinging away from the crisps giving off that crisp whiff, I turned only to come face to face with the delicious pastries on the opposite shelves. I ran my finger along the prices of each yummy sugared item, imagining what it would be like to sit and eat a donut when I get home. I only came in for tea!
I will let you in on a secret though. I did break and eat some chocolate over the weekend. I am a homosapienette, and in being one, there will be a week of each month that certain hormonal fluctuations will result in both pain of epic proportions and an all consuming craving for sweets. I needed to have them, and due to what I was going through, I think I deserved it. So about 2am, drinking some tea, I ate the eight squared chocolate bar that was in my fridge. Did I feel guilty? Yes, yes I did. Ashamed almost, but then the endorphins that you get from scratching that annoying itch kicked in and I'm not sorry to say that the guilt left me. Still, a mere blip on the radar, akin to the electricity cutting out and waiting for the back up energy generator to start up. But sure whats a square of chocolate between friends.
If it were possible, I could happily live on junk food. Crisps, chocolate, jellies, chocolate covered stuff, croissants topped with almonds, savoury snacks whatever you care to list under junk food, I could and most probably have eaten it. A typical day, in fantasy junk food land, would be croissants with butter and blackcurrant jam in the morning, chocolate covered brazil nuts for snack, massive bag of cheese Doritos with dip for lunch, followed by Kinder Bueno (as this is fantasy land, it would be both the Bueno Negro and the Bueno Blanco varieties) with more crisps for afternoon snack and so on and so on, you can see where this is going. Put a big leafy, deliciously dressed salad in front of me, with an order of seabass and yeah, I would look at it and savour the smell and enjoy what I was seeing. Put a bowl of Sweet Chilli and Sour Cream Kettle Chips sans dressing beside my gourmet meal, and I would be flicking stolen glances at the crisps, in the manner of secretly checking out that other guy or girl when you are out and about with your partner. How easy is it to be sitting at your desk with a bag of chocolate nibbles, dipping in every time your left hand leaves the key board? That answer, if you work where I work, is very easy.
Most offices have the sweetie press, bog standard, totally fine. Our office, has a weekly Sainsbury's shop delivered each week, complete with an amazing house keeper who keeps an eye on what we enjoy most and orders them for us by the bag load. I both love her and hate her in equal measures. On top of an upstairs sweetie press, we have the downstairs table in our meeting room, normally laden with chocolates, and nuts, and crisps and more chocolates. Throw in some lovely patrons of the office who like to bring us cakes and M&S biscuits and more boxes of chocolates, and you can imagine what we are dealing with here. What could be not much of an issue for a larger office, whereby the nibbles brought in can stretch to about thirty employees, is actually quite a major issue for us, as there are only seven of us, house keeper included. Enough for thirty, but consumed by seven.
And even though it's only just a week into my forty day and forty night odyssey of going cold junk food turkey, it seems I am being harassed by sweets. The office is abound with all butter Shortbread biscuits, mini chocolate chip cookies (mini things are always so much more delicious) profiteroles with chunks of chocolate sauce drizzled generously over the pastry, Bailey's chocolates, snack sized Kit-Kats, a small cupboard full of crisps, it's wall to wall junk. There seems to be chocolate appearing as if from no where. I go to make my porridge in the morning, opening the cereal press also opens the flood gates to the Narnia of Sweeties, they both cohabit the same building. Opening the fridge to get the milk, there are Ginsters microwaveable slices winking at me and glinting under the light of the fridge. Go to take tea break, turn your back for a moment and when you go to lift the mug to your lips, you will find that a Kit-Kat or a Terry's All Gold chocolate left haphazardly beside you.
It's not even just in the office, but it is where I spend most of my time. Only this evening, standing in the supermarket looking for tea, I found myself in a familiar aisle, that of the one which contains all of my favourite things. To the left, jostling for space on the shelf were the entire family of Haribo, including Uncle Tangfastic, Granny StarMix and that cousin that you secretly fancy, Golden Bears. Gossiping up top were the Terry family, both milk and dark chocolate options looking down their fancy wrapped noses at the own brand chocolate covered raisins and peanuts. The crisps were there too, all onion rings and ridged Kettle Chips and Sensations and multi pack Doritos practically flinging themselves into my basket. Jelly Bean jellies committing Hari Kari to get a place in my shopping, Pringles...well they can stay there, maybe I should have given up Pringles for Lent. Fearing the worst, and knowing my penchant for all things junk, I knew I had to get out of there before I staged a sit in in the sweetie aisle. But to my horror, swinging away from the crisps giving off that crisp whiff, I turned only to come face to face with the delicious pastries on the opposite shelves. I ran my finger along the prices of each yummy sugared item, imagining what it would be like to sit and eat a donut when I get home. I only came in for tea!
I will let you in on a secret though. I did break and eat some chocolate over the weekend. I am a homosapienette, and in being one, there will be a week of each month that certain hormonal fluctuations will result in both pain of epic proportions and an all consuming craving for sweets. I needed to have them, and due to what I was going through, I think I deserved it. So about 2am, drinking some tea, I ate the eight squared chocolate bar that was in my fridge. Did I feel guilty? Yes, yes I did. Ashamed almost, but then the endorphins that you get from scratching that annoying itch kicked in and I'm not sorry to say that the guilt left me. Still, a mere blip on the radar, akin to the electricity cutting out and waiting for the back up energy generator to start up. But sure whats a square of chocolate between friends.
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